


Feed the Beast

by unadrift



Series: SGA Season Five Tags [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 22:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadrift/pseuds/unadrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the first day it's darkness that gets to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feed the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Tag for _The Seed_. Beta'd by ambrosia4all.

On the first day it's darkness that gets to her.

Jennifer has been released to her quarters, apparently fit to sleep in her own bed again. She lies down with a sigh and doesn't think about it twice when she palms the controls on the nightstand. From the moment the light fades into complete blackness Jennifer is paralyzed, her chest tight with panic, fear rising like bile in her throat.

She's being _eaten alive_ again, transformed, used. She's losing her mind. Left alone. In the dark.

Lashing out, Jennifer manages to turn the lights back on. She lies awake until dawn.

The next day, it's the feeling of rubber touching her skin.

Doctor Greene reaches out to grab an empty test tube from across the lab bench and brushes Jennifer's forearm with her gloved hand. A vivid sense memory of tentacles, goddamn _tentacles_, creeping slowly across skin – purposeful, searching – washes over Jennifer.

She drops the Erlenmeyer flask she's been holding. An intense sense of vertigo makes her blindly reach out and grab hold of something. When she can open her eyes again, she's breathing hard. Her knuckles ache from their tight grip on the lab bench, and the flask is lying on the floor, in pieces.

Doctor Greene sends her home with a gentle shove in the direction of the door. Jennifer can't summon up the energy or the determination to argue with her and just returns to her quarters. She lies awake for the better part of another night, with the lights on.

The day after, it's the smell of coconut.

Wraith ships never smelled like coconut before, or at least Jennifer has never heard about it. And with Rodney around, she's sure that she would have.

It's a whiff of the new soap the Daedalus brought on its latest supply run that causes Jennifer to freeze in terror. Her wide eyes stare back at her from the mirror over the basin. She almost doesn't make it to the toilet before she throws up, shaking all over.

She remembers the hunger – it's there instantly, completely, like a physical blow. Hunger-- for raw material, for energy, for _her sanity_. Hunger that wasn't really hers, and the smell of coconut filling her nose.

Jennifer sinks to the floor, rests her head on cool tile and tries to breathe through her mouth.

A few hours later, it's Ronon who makes her lose it.

In that first moment right after Jennifer literally runs into him in the mess, she wants to punch him hard, hurt him, make him _bleed_ for what he's doing. Because he's a threat, he's going to kill her, he's-- No.

Her hand is still curled into a fist when she arrives in her quarters, panting for breath.

Jennifer vividly remembers Ronon's pulse slowing under her fingers, his life leaving him with every labored breath. The fact that it wasn't _her_ hand that almost killed him doesn't help at all. Her knees are weak, and she moves to stretch out on the bed, tears soaking the pillow, until, eventually, she falls asleep.

 

It's the first time she dreams again.

There's air rushing past her, howling – pressure and heat so strong it almost hurts. There's the pull of gravity, a thousand times stronger than it's supposed to be. It eases, more and more, and finally fades into _nothing_.

She's there, out in the open, with three dimensions to choose from, and with so much space around her that it's almost terrifying.

She's come alive, risen from the place of her birth into the sky, free--

Jennifer jerks awake. She doesn't think about it, just gets up and puts on the first clothes that fall into her hands. The walk through the corridors barely registers with her. One moment she is leaving her quarters, and the next she is standing in front of a door. She knocks.

"I want to fly," she says when Sheppard opens. He looks disheveled, but alert. Jennifer hadn't noticed exactly how late it is. "Can you teach me how to fly?"

Sheppard's face goes through nuances of slight annoyance, mild confusion, and finally understanding. Jennifer wonders whether he still feels the scales on his body itch sometimes, and if that's why he shrugs and says, "Sure."

"Okay. Thanks," Jennifer answers, feeling stupid. "I should-- go now. Let you get some sleep." She takes two steps backwards. "Goodnight."

"Doctor Keller," he says, when she's about to turn and go. His expression is as blank as she wants her mind to be. "It gets easier. With time."

Jennifer gives him a tight smile. "I hope so."


End file.
